


Once More, Unto the Breach

by House_of_WanderLust



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, F/M, Time Travel Fix-It, We gonna save the egg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-23
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2019-11-28 20:52:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18213482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/House_of_WanderLust/pseuds/House_of_WanderLust
Summary: A desperate move has thrown Arlia Lavellan back in time over three years, to the begenning of it all. Haven, the breach, a mad darkspawn Magister.  She only wanted to stop the Qunari invasion and save Solas. Not go through this shite again. Oh well. Time to save the bloody world, again.





	1. Chapter 1

Dorian stared down into his glass with a sigh, “So much has changed in the last few years. The high and mighty Inquisition, now bow and scraping to the whims of the Orleasians and the Fereldens. 

“I bow to no shemlen Dorian,” Arlia teased and he grinned. 

“Quite right my dear, nor should you have to. Still a shame to see it come to this.”

Arlia shrugged, “It was bound to happen sooner or later. A powerful political faction, beholden to no one, and with such a large standing army? I’m surprised they weren’t banging down our doors the second the breach was closed.”

“Ah, but then we had that nasty bit of business in the Deep Roads, and you went into the Frostbacks searching for the remains of the Last Inquisitor, and then killed another god. This one in the body of a dragon,” Dorian crowed. “Oh I wish I had been able to see Bull’s face. Was he drooling? I bet he was.”

Arlia laughed, “Of course he was. A dragon, insanely powerful, the lives of everyone in the balance. It was just like old times.”

“Hmp, speaking of old times,” the Vint said putting his glass down. “I have something for you.”

He rummaged through his robes for a moment, then pulled out a thin box with a flourish. “Here we go.” He handed it to her with a small smile. 

Arlia shook her head with a laugh, “Dorian, you didn’t need to get me anything.”

“No, no. I insist you take it,” he said sternly.

She faulted, “Dorian…”

“I insist,” he said pushing the box into her hands.

She frowned and opened it, glancing down at the strange amulet inside. “Is this…?

“Alexius’s little device, all fixed up and working better than ever? Yes,” he replied grimly. “I’ve been working on it, on and off for the past few years. A little side project. I never expected to actually make it work.” He glowered into his glass for a moment before setting it aside. 

“I managed to find a way to send one’s soul back if you will. The very essence of themselves, instead of the body. That was what caused the rifts you see, the juxtaposition of having two of the same person, in the same time from different times. It caused reality to snap and bend, warping to try and fix the problem. With this, no new body. You just inhabit your old one. No need for reality warping shenanigans.”

“So why give it to me?” Arlia asked, slowly removing the amulet from the box and studying it. 

“Because if it stays in my homeland there will be a disaster,” Dorian huffed. “There are magisters who will abuse this power. It took nearly two months worth of lyrium to send me back a whole of three days. Can you imagine a magister who decides to fuel it with blood magic? At least in your hands I know if it is ever used, it will be for the good of some poor unfortunate soul.”

Arlia snorted and tucked it into her coat. “Alright Dorian, I’ll keep it safe.” 

“Thank you, that is a weight off my mind,” he said with a sigh. “Now, what do you say we drink away our sorrows on this fine Antivian vintage hmm?” 

He held up his glass and she smiled, taking her own and clicking it against his. “Sounds like a plan.”

“To old times,” Dorian said with a smile and Arlia laughed. 

“May we never have to deal with that shite again.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arlia leaned against the war table, fingers digging into the wood as the anchor flared again. Pain arched up her arm, burning through her veins as her advisors finally stopped bickering. It finally died down again and she glanced up into the anxious faces of her old friends. Lilliana reached forward and she jerked away.

“Shit, fuck. Dammit!” She took a breath, forcing herself upright. “We save Ferelden, and they’re angry. We save Orlais, and they’re angry. We close the Breach twice, and my own hand wants to fucking Kill me! Could one thing in this fucking world just stay fixed!”

She took a breath, staring into the worried faces of her old friends. “I need to get to the Darvaarad. You can argue amongst yourself once… once I’m back.” ‘If I come back.’

Lilliana stepped forward, the jewels on her divine robes sparkling in the light. “Thank you Inquisitor,” she said softly and Arlia nodded. 

“Would… would you like us to inform the Exalted Council of the danger?” Josephine asked, desperation leaking into her voice.

Arlea nodded, “If we fail, the Council will need to know what happened.”

“I will inform them personally,” Lilliana offered. “My words as Divine, will carry weight.” 

“Lilliana, I can-” Josie started and Lilliana shook her head. 

“No, your job is hard enough. This is my responsibility,” she insisted.

Cullen stepped forward, “I’ll have guards waiting at the Eluvian in case the Qunari attack the palace.”

“Maker watch over you,” Lilliana added and Arlia nodded. 

“Take care, all of you.” Turning on heel she marched up the steps, ignoring the throbbing pain in her hand. Her friends, her companions, stood waiting in the courtyard. She straightened her spine and took a breath. “I’m going to face the Darvaarad. Cassandra, Cole, Dorian. You’re coming with me. Armor up.” They nodded and jogged off to the blacksmith. 

“Vivienne, I need you to corral the nobles. Try and keep things from escalating.”

“Of course darling, whatever you need,” she said and quickly spun off. 

“Blackwall- Thom,” she started. “If things hit the fan inform the warden’s of what happened. Maybe they can offer some support. Varric, can you do the same with the Free Marches?”

“I can damn well try,” the dwarf huffed. “Being viscount has to have some privileges.”

Arlia nodded, “Sera, you’re in charge of the little people. If fighting breaks out in the Palace get them to safety.” Sera nodded, already looking for a fight. 

“And Bull, I can’t ask you to fight your own people,” she said softly and he nodded. 

“Thanks Boss.”

“You should probably head out, once word starts to spread-”

“I can handle myself, but thanks.”

“Anytime Bull. I hope the next time I see all of you, it’s under better circumstances.” She smiled at them, keeping her hands clenched behind her back. ‘If I see you all again.’

“Now, let’s go save the world again.”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dorian..." Arlia staggered forward, blood dripping from her arm, "Dorian we have to go." 

The Altus flinched, picking himself off the ground, pulling away from the prone figure on the floor. She turned away, jaw clenched tight, trying to push the sight away.

“Let’s go,” he hissed, forcing the words between clenched teeth. 

“Are you-” Arlia started to ask. 

“No, I’m not,” Dorian hissed. “But we can deal with it later. Preferably with wine.” 

Arlia nodded, glancing back just once more. The Iron Bull, impaled by multiple spears of ice. She… she hadn’t wanted to, but he had come straight at Dorian, raised his axe, the dawnstone glittering in the sun and she just reacted. He had turned on them, for the Qun. The damned Qun!

She turned away, the anchor crackling in her palm as they faced the dragon in the next room. Already Qunari agents were filling the room, weapons raised. Cass held her shield close, glaring down at them, Cole beside her, daggers raised. 

“Let’s finish this,” Arlia whispered and stormed forward. She was damn well and truly done with this fucking invasion. 

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She stumbled through the Eluvian after the Viddasala, determined to catch that horned bitch and her overpowered pet. Her words still stung. Solas, an agent of Fen'Harel? No, he couldn't be. He couldn't, but she feared the truth was so much worse. She cradled her arm to her chest, staggering along the path. 

"Solas wouldn't do that! He's not that kind of wolf!"

Cole's words rattled around her head, sinking into her chest like an ice covered stone. No, he wasn't that kind of wolf, she feared he was one far worse.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She glanced around a stone figure of a Qunari, heart pounding in her chest. It really was him. After all this time. She approached slowly, the leaves under her boots giving her presence away.

“Solas…” Then the pain, white hot needles lancing up her arm and driving her to her knees. Then almost as quickly as it came, it stopped. She lanced up to see him tucking a hand away, power still clinging to the air around him.

He smiled at her, so sad and forlorn it was all she could do not to race into his arms. “That should give us some time. I suspect you have questions.”

“Many,” she said softly. “Though the Qunari answered a fair bit, and I found more answers on my own. You’re really him, the Dread Wolf. Fen’Harel.”

He flinched back and she reached for him. “Solas came first, Fen’Harel came later. An insult I took as a badge of pride,” he said slowly turning from her. “The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my allies, and fear in my enemies. Not unlike the title of Inquisitor I suppose.”

He turned back to face her, the pain evident in his voice, “And now you know. What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you?”

“And so he did,” Arlia choked out, half laughing, half sobbing. 

“I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses,” he said with a shake of his head.

“You still lied to me!” she snapped.

“Ir abelas, vhenan,” he said softly.

“Tel’abelas. If you care, give me the truth,” she pleaded, slowly forcing her way to her feet. 

He nodded and turned away from her again, 

“I sought to free my people from slavery to would-be-gods. I broke the chains of all who wished to join me. The false god’s called me Fen’Harel, and when they finally went to far I formed the veil and banished them. Thus I freed the Elven people,” he said turning to face the ruins in the distance, and in doing so, destroyed their world.”

“But you love the fade,” she whispered. “Why would you?”

“Because every alternative was worse,” he whispered, head hanging. 

“Meaning?” she demanded. 

“Had I not created the veil, the Evanuris would have destroyed the world.” 

“So you banished them? Why not simply…”

He gave a half chuckle, “You met Mythal correct? The first of my people do not die so easily. The Evanuris are banished forever, paying the ultimate price for their misdeeds.”

“And just what did they do to warrant such a punishment?” she snapped. 

“They killed Mythal,” he answered softly. 

“I thought she was one of them,” Arlea whispered. 

“She was,” Solas said softly. “The best of them. She cared for her people, protected them. And they murdered her. An eternity of punishment is more than befitting such a crime.”

“Then why not leave that in the past?” Arliea begged. “Why do all this?”

“For countless millennium I lay in dark and dreaming, unable to aid the eleven people. They suffered for what I had to do to strike the Evanuris down, but some hope yet remains for restoration.” He straightened his back, turning to face her again, eyes cold and distant. “I will save the elven people. Even if it means this world must die.”

“You’re going to destroy this world?” she growled and he flinched. 

“Not happily.”

“Then I’ll have to stop you.”

“I know you will try,” he said bowing his head. 

“Until then, you should concern yourself with the Inquisition. Your Inquisition. With the invasion halted you have stopped their advance south. You will still have a few years of relative peace.”

“Was it ever really my Inquisition?” she demanded. 

“I gave no orders,” he replied.

“You led us to Skyhold,” she growled. 

His eyes closed for a moment. “Corypheus should have died unlocking my orb. When he survived all my plans were thrown into chaos; but you survived and, with the Inquisition, were the best hope of stopping him. You needed a home, a base of operations. Thus, Skyhold.”

“You gave that madman your orb?” she snapped and he winced.

“Yes, and no. My agents placed it into his hands, not truly knowing who he was. Only that he was a mage, an expert on ancient elven artifacts. The orb had built up too much power over the ages for me to unlock in my weakened state. I had hoped he would simply jar the connection loose, crack the door as it were. When he revealed his true intentions I was caught off guard, and again when he proved his near immortality.” 

“Did you care about us at all?” she cried, voice cracking under the strain, “Or were we just pawns?”

“No, you are people. People who deserved far better… like the rest I have used in one hopeless battle after another.

“And...the anchor?” she asked, clenching her hand tight. Should could feel it, the power gathering, burning into her palm once more. 

“I know venahn, and we are running out of time,” he said as his control broke.

The anchor flared again and she cried out, dropping to her knees in the cold mud. 

He stepped forward, slowly kneeling next to her. “The mark will eventually kill you. Drawing you here, it gives me the chance to save you. For now at least.” 

She forced her head up, tears streaming down her face. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to destroy this world. Let me prove it to you.”

He gave her a sad smile, “I would treasure the chance to be proven wrong once again, ma venahn.”

He reached for her arm and she could feel the power being drawn to him, even as the pain wracked her body. 

All this time, after all this time the monster from her childhood stories was no monster at all. He was a man, a man who had made mistakes, such grave mistakes and who was desperately trying to fix them. But she couldn't, wouldn't let him burn this world down in the process. She loved him too much to let him stain his hands with so much blood. He would never forgive himself. He never had.

She just needed more time. Time to make him see sense, time to put everything right. 

Just a bit more time.

Just.

More.

 

TIME.

 

Her eyes flew wide just has his hand reached hers. That was it. 

Her free hand reached up, pressing against his chest, and shoved. Rift magic, fueled by her desperation, launched him back sending him skidding across the ground. His eyes flew wide and he scrambled to his feet. 

“Venahn stop this!”

She closed her eyes against the pain and threw up her strongest barrier. The one taught to her by the spirit in the Frostback Basin. If it could hold against angry spirits for two hundred years, it would buy her at least a few moments. She shoved her free hand into one of the pouches of her robes, grabbing a familiar amulet.

The time travel amulet. The one Dorian had given her before this mess started. 

She felt Solas trying to break through her barrier, but every hit slid off, lightning dancing into the distance as he failed to find purchase. 

The anchor crackled in her hand and she shoved the amulet against the mark. The barrier cracked as Solas threw another spell at it, but it was too late

She forced the pain again and with every ounce of her strength, every bit of her indomitable focus, forced all of the energy of the anchor into one last desperate spell. 

The barrier fell away and Solas reached for her desperately as her back arched in pain. 

Then there was a great crack, a searing cold, and the world went white.


	2. Chapter 2

Arlia awoke slowly, staring up at the damp stone above her. She blinked up at the ceiling, trying to figure out where she was. This wasn’t the Winter Palace. No, she had been- Her eyes flew wide.

The Qunari invasion.

The Eluvians.

Solas.

The amulet.

She tried to scrambled upright, only to find her hands bound in heavy iron manacles. “What?” A cell. Trapped in a cold stone cell. Why did this look familiar? Where-when had this happened before?

The door to her cell creaked open and two men in heavy armor came in. They grabbed her by the shoulders, ignoring her protests, and dragged her out, throwing her onto the cold stone in front of two more heavily armed guards. Her knees stung at the impact and she glowered at them as her guards drew their blades. 

Arlia took a breath and studied her surroundings. A jail, a small one, and one she could have sworn she had seen before. She pondered it for a moment, before the anchor began to flare against her palm. She braced for a wave a pain, an explosion of energy, the shockwave of power, but there was none. It sputtered against her palm, feeling more akin to a mild shock than a bone searing burst. Well, that was… new.

She tried to contemplate this new development for a moment before door across from her burst open and a pair of familiar figures strolled in. 

“Cassandra, Liliana? What’s going on-?”

Cassandra glowered at her and Arlia quickly shut her mouth. The Seeker slowly slipped behind her, glowering at the her captive. 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now.”

What?!

She straightened up, continuing to glare down at the befuddled elf. “The Conclave is destroyed.Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

“T-The Conclave, but that was-” her voice froze in her throat. It couldn’t be. The spell couldn’t have flung her that far back, right?

Cassandra growled, grabbed Arlia’s hand and shoving the mark into her face.

“Explain this!”

“I- I,” she couldn’t explain, couldn’t begin to tell her everything. “I can’t,” she managed to sputter out.

“What do you mean you can’t?!” Cassandra demanded, ready to draw her blade. 

“I mean it’s a long story, and i don’t have time to tell you right now!” Arlia explained. 

“Then you will make time,” Cassandra growled.

“What, and let the Breach keep getting bigger?” Arlia snapped. “The longer we stay here, the more people will die. I swear to you Cassandra, i will tell you everything! But right now we have bigger problems.”

“She is right Cassandra,” Liliana spoke stepping from the shadows. “The Breach should be our primary focus at the moment. Though I am curious as to how you know of it, and of how you know our names.”

“It’s part of this long story,” Arlia admitted. 

“Then I look forward to hearing it,” Lilliana said icily.

Arlia swallowed hard and slowly stood. “Well then, if you would be so kind as to take these off we can get a move on. I can tell you some of what happened on the way up the mountain, including who really killed Divine Justinia.”

Both women quickly turned to glare at her and Arlia flinched back.

“It’s part of that long story, and at the moment I doubt we have the time,” she said quickly.

Cassandra glanced at Liliana, their glares softening, and nodded, “Go to the forward camp. We will be along shortly. Hopefully with more answers.”

The Left Hand nodded and slipped off as Cass stepped forward. She helped Arlia to her feet and undid the manacles. 

“Thank you. I’ll need a staff, if you have one to spare,” Arlia said rubbing her wrists. “The demons on the mountain will give us no quarter.”

“We shall see,” Cassandra huffed and led her out. 

“Can you seal the Breach?” she asked and Arlia paused.

“I-I can try,” Arlia answered. It was the safest answer she had. 

“I suppose that is all I can ask for,” Cass said softly and pushed open the Chantry doors. 

Arlia glanced up, her breath catching in her throat. Even after all this time, the sight caught her off guard. The swirling mass in the sky, the crackle of the Fade energy seeping into the waking world. 

Cassandra glanced back at her, “It is a sight, is it not?”

“Yeah,” Arlia said and took a steadying breath. “And standing here accomplishes nothing. Let’s go.”

The Seeker paused at the determination in her voice and nodded falling into step beside her. “I still wish to see if your claims are true. There are other smaller rifts along our path. If you can seal them-”

“I can,” Arlia replied, jogging down the snow covered path.

“We shall see,” Cassandra said escorting her out of the village and to the gates of the mountain path. She commanded the guard to let them through, and picked up a discarded staff, handing it to Arlia. “We must hurry. With every hour the Breach grows.”

Arlia took the staff, feeling the wood warm under her hands, “We will stop this Seeker. I give you my word.”

“I hope you can keep it,” Cassandra huffed and motioned for the young mage to follow. 

Arlia took a breath and fell into step behind her, her breath catching at the Breach pulsed and crackled. A wave of raw energy washed over them, the mark on Arlia’s hand flaring, blazing on just the edge of pain. Cassandra paused, looking back and frowning at the mark.

“It...does not pain you?”

“No, and that worries me,” Arlia replied. “Last time it felt like a white hot poker was being stabbed through my palm.”

“And now?” Cassandra asked. 

“Have you ever held a hot stone in your palm, and it’s just warm enough to be on the edge of being painful? It’s like that, sort of.” Arlia replied. 

Cassandra frowned, “Something must have tampered with it. We will search for answers later. For now-”

There was a great crash as a meteor hit the bridge they had been about to cross, sending debris tumbling into the frozen stream below. Demons emerged from the smoke, clawing their way up the stone and Cassandra drew her sword. 

“Defend yourself!” she cried and charged into the fray. 

Arlia spun the staff in her hand, a barrage of energy striking the demon below. It cried out in pain and she warped the maging around herself, fade stepping through the demon, catching it’s heel with the butt of her staff and sending it crashing to the ground. It gave another pained shriek and faded awake, leaving her shaking.

It took a great deal of mana to pull that off, and evidently she was in worse shape than she remembered. Cassandra jogged over, having dispatched her own demon, and offered Arlia a sip from her water flask.

“You fight well. Most people would freeze up when faced with a demon,” Cassandra said softly.

“I’ve had experience fighting demons,” Arlia said and took a sip from the flask. “Let’s keep moving.”

She handed the flask back to Cassandra, following the frozen stream, “I would not have suspected the Dalish had much experience fighting demons.”

“They normally don’t,” Arlia replied. “I have had some rather… unique experiences.” That was putting it mildly. Demons, Red Templars, the Venatori, ancient horrors that should never be disturbed. She had seen them all, fought them all. Conquered them all. Doing it again- Her grip tightened on her staff as they faced another pack of demons. Fighting this war again was going to be hell, but it was a hell she knew well. They pushed through the demons and found the path again, carefully climbing up slippery ice covered steps.

“Here comes the test of your claims,” Cassandra huffed, carefully balancing on the steps. “There should be another Rift nearby. You can hear the fighting.” 

Arlia’s eyes widened and she pushed past the Seeker, heart hammering in her throat. She clamored to the top of the rise and froze at the familiar figure fighting below.  
‘Solas.’

For a moment everything seemed to hang still, then a Shade noticed her and screeched, shuffling forward. Three well placed crossbow bolts hit it in the side of the head and she jerked out of her daze. 

‘Rift first, oogle later.’ A Fade step brought her through the lines of battle, frost trailing in her wake. The Soldiers scattered as demons froze from her touch. 

She spun back to face the Rift, a tangled knot, a rip in the Viel. She reached up, the Anchor flaring in her palm as the magic lashed out. It grabbed that knot, and she pulled. There was a crack and the demons shrieked in pain, fading back through the Rift as they were quickly dispatched. She raised her hand again and felt someone grab her wrist. 

“Before more come through! Seal it!” 

She flinched, the Anchor’s magic lashing out again as she turned to glance at the ‘Apostate’ holding her and her heart dropped like a leaded weight. 

Fury. Every line of his face echoed the emotion, his eyes burning with hate. Her breath hitched and she quickly turned away, ignoring the cold sweat dripping down her back.

This was not her Solas. Not yet. 

She stepped back, pulling her hand away and examining the Anchor with more scrutiny. She wasn’t used to it behaving so well. She flexed her fingers, and glanced up at elven apostate, who was still eying her with suspicion.

“So, it turns out that magic mark on your hand is good for something,” Varric drawled behind her. “And here I thought it was only good for trying to kill you.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s still pretty good at that,” Arlia shot at the dwarf with a smile.

“Perhaps,” Solas added cooly, “But I would prefer if it did not. I would hate for all my hard work to go to waste.”

“What he means is, ‘I kept that mark from killing you while you slept’,” Varric added, stepping forward with a smile. “Varric Tethras. Rogue, storyteller, and occasionally unwelcome tagalong,” he said with a smirk as Cassandra scowled at him.

“Arlia Lavellan, former first to Clan Lavellan, and already in over my head,” she replied and Varric laughed. 

“Sounds about right. We should be hurrying along though, if we’re gonna make it to that giant ass hole in the sky,” he said with a somber glance up.

“Absolutely not, you are not going anywhere,” Cassandra growled. 

“Have you seen the valley Seeker?” varric countered. “Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need all the help you can get.”

Cassandra sneered at him, snorted in frustration and disgust, and stormed away.

“My name is Solas, if there are to be introductions.” Arlia’s breath caught in her throat and she turned to face him. “I am glad to see that mark may be of some use. Though, it seems something about it has changed. Did you tamper with it’s magics after you awoke?”

Arlia paused. “Ah, I’m not sure actually. Maybe?”

He hummed thoughtfully and turned to Cassandra. “Seeker, you should know: the magic here is unlike anything I have ever seen.” 

Arlia resisted rolling her eyes, ‘Bullshit.’

“Your prisoner is a mage, but I find it difficult to believe any mage having such power.”

Cassandra nodded, “Understood, though she claims to see who accomplished it.”

“Oh?” Solas asked and turned to her.

“I’ll explain on the way,” she said with a sigh, marching over to the path down the mountain. 

“Well, Bianca's excited to hear what you have to say,” Varric said with a smile. 

"So, are you innocent?" Varric asked, slowly picking his way down the snow covered slope.

"Oh yes, completely," Arlia answered offering him a hand.

"What, really? Okay, so who did it?" he asked incredulously and she laughed. 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," he grumbled.

Arlia glanced at the stern face of the Seeker, sighed, and shrugged. "He's an ancient darkspawn magister wielding the foci of an ancient elven god, determined to rip his way through the veil, stroll through the fade up to the gates of the Black City, throw open it's doors and place his bum firmly on the seat of the Creators, crowning himself the new god of this era. You may have met him before. Goes by the name Corypheus." 

Varric stared at her for a moment and shook his head, “Well. Shit.”

“My sentiments exactly,” Arlia replied. 

"And precisely how do you know all of this?" the elven mage behind her asked and she took a breath.

Arlia chuckled, "That is an even longer story, and best saved for after we stop the breach from growing any larger."

Cassandra frowned, "I...very well, but you will explain everything."

"I will tell you all I can Cassandra, now let's move. We've demons to fight, and I'm more out of shape than I thought." 

A dozen demons, another Rift, and a few minor injuries they made it to the Forward Camp. Arlia let out a sigh of relief, limping towards Lilliana and the Grand Chancellor. It was… strange, to see him again. How many other people, those she had lost the dead and gone, would she see again. Too many, though she really could do without the excessive whining.

They approached the table and the glorified bureaucrat ordered Cassandra to chain her again so she could be put on trial.

“Yes, and tell me Chancellor,” Arlia interjected. “How long will it take the Grand Clerics to reach a decision? How many of them have the power, the influence necessary to sway enough votes in their favor? The process could take months, even years; and all that time the Breach will grow ever larger, threatening all of Thedas. I can stop this, here and now, or would you rather take the chance that someone else can try and fix this instead?”

Rodrick glared at her, his jaw clenching before he threw his hands up in disgust. “Fine, but let this be on your head Seeker!” 

“It already is,” Cassandra huffed. 

There was a brief terse argument over which path to take before they started hiking up the mountainside. She knew what to expect in those tunnels. On that battlefield, she wouldn’t be surprised if another Pride demon popped out, and they were in no shape to face another.

She started up the ladder, listening the Varric puffing behind her. “So, Corypheus is back. Any chance you know how?” 

“I do,” Arlia answered. ‘It’s pretty gruesome too.”

“Oh, then please, enlighten the rest of us,” varric huffed. 

“Alright,” she said with a shrug. “You know how when someone tries to kill any Archdemon and it just pops into the body of another blighted creature? That madman can do the same shit. Darkspawn, Grey Wardens, anything with even a trace of the Blight and he can reform himself using their body.”

Cassandra topped the rise, looking positively green, “So, he is immortal?”

“Sorta,” Arlia replied and offered a hand to her. Cassandra took it with a frown. 

“And are you ever going to explain how you know all this?” she snapped. 

“Yes, when we are back in Haven and I’m sure none of his agents can eavesdrop on us. I’m not sure how many of these demons are poor Spirits mangled by the abrupt entry into our world, or part of the army he’s trying to raise. I’d rather not take chances.”

“Right, demon army,” Varric sighed. “This is gonna be one hell of a story isn’t it Poppy?”

Arlia blinked, “Poppy?”

“Eh, working title. What do you think?”

“Better than the last one,” she said with a smirk. “Come on, if we hurry we can save Lillian’s people.”

Weapons ready they slipped into the tunnels, picking their was through to the otherside. The fighting was short and brutal, leaving Arlia shaking by the time she finally sealed the Rift on the other side. 

Solas stepped to her side, offering her a small vial of lyrium. “You have been overtaxing your mana. Here, drink.”

“Thank you,” she said and took the philter from him. “It’s been a while since I had to ration my spellcasting.”

“Oh? I thought the Dalish were very careful with their magic,” Solas said studying her. 

“They are,” she said sipping at the bitter brew. “It’s just…”

“A long story?” he ventured. 

“You have no idea,” she said with a soft laugh and tucked the empty philter away. 

“I look forward to hearing it,” he said with a sly smile and slipped away. Her heart thudded in her chest and she quickly had to fight away a blush.

She got back to her feet, leaning on her staff as they shambled down the path.

“So, why the explosion?” Varric asked.

“Excuse me?” Arlia asked.

“Why blow up the temple? I mean, tearing a hole into the Fade, did it really need to be…” he gestured to the sky.

“Oh, I’m quite certain his ritual wouldn’t have leveled a mountain normally,” Arlia replied. “But when a plucky elf sees you trying to sacrifice the Divine and decides to screw things up well…”

Cassandra glared at her, “So you did cause this?!”

“Well, matter of debate,” Arlia sighed. “I mean, I could have let him kill the Divine, open a portal into the Fade, and become a living God; but that didn’t seem the wisest course of action at the time. I doubt the outcome of that would be much better than the current fiasco we find ourselves in.”

Cassandra paused for a moment and sighed, “You’re right. I do not believe Lilliana or I would have done otherwise.”

They stepped over a high ridge and finally dropped into the blated crater that used to be the temple. There was silence as they picked their way through the ruins, and finally saw the Rift. 

“This was the first,” Solas said softly. “Seal it, and the Breach may close.”

“It won’t,” Arlia said softly. “But it will stabilize. Stop growing and spewing out demons,” Arlia said softly. “Someone will have to carry me back. I doubt it will kill me this time, but it’s going to be a near thing.”

Cassandra growled, drawing her sword, “You said you could close it!”

“I said I would deal with it, and I plan to,” Arlia. “The amount of power needed to seal this damned thing is more than any one mage could ever command.”

“She is correct Seeker,” Solas said stepping forward. “Sealing the Rift will be a step in the right direction, and stabilized the Breach will do little harm.”

Cassandra glared at them for a moment and sheathed her sword. “Very well. We will proceed then.”

The scouts and Lilliana came around the corner, all of them eyeing the Rift nervously. Cassandra and Liliana ordered the remaining soldiers and scouts into formation. Arlia glared at the Rift and took a breath, anxiously rubbing the mark on her palm.

“Are you ready?” Solas asked approaching her.

“I doubt anyone could ever be ready for this,” she said softly, “but I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and do nothing.”

He nodded and she straightened up, turning to march down the crater. Shafts of Red Lyrium poked through the ground and Varric glared at them. 

“Seeker, this is…”

“I see it Varric,” she replied.

“But what’s it doing here?” Varric snapped. 

“The magic used here could have drawn on the lyrium beneath the temple, corrupting it,” Solas offered. 

“Blighting it,” Arliea said softly.

“What? But lyrium can’t get the Blight! It’s just a rock!” Varric whispered dubiously. 

“If you say so. Bianace might have something to say on that matter,” Arliea said softly.

Varric stared at her, gripping his crossbow tight. “Okay, whatever story you’ve got to tell, it better be a good one.”

“It will be. Come on.” Arlia said and finally dropped down into the crater. 

The Anchor crackled in her palm and she gripped her staff tight. “Here we go then. Once more, unto the Breach.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop a Kuddos, Comment, or a Bookamrk if you like and thanks for stopping by.


	3. Chapter 3

Water slowly dripped back into the washbasin, the ripples obscuring the reflection for a brief moment before the water stilled again. Fingers gripped into the wood of the dresser as vibrant green eyes stared at the still pool.

It was unnerving, being here again. Haven, the Breach, Corypheus. Less than a week ago it had all been a distant memory, and now… now it was her present again.

Arlia sighed and grabbed a rag, washing her face and arms before picking up her armor. The first set Harritt had forged for her, the links gleaming softly in the candlelight. Nothing less than the best for the Blessed Herald of Andraste. 

Creators, she should have stopped Lilliana and Josephine from letting that little rumor spread. Not that they would have. It was too powerful a symbol to pass up, and the people needed a symbol. So she would be that symbol again. Their Herald, Their Inquisitor, the last great hope for peace in Thedas. 

The armor settled into place, heavy in a few odd locations.No matter, she would get used to the weight, she had before. She picked up her staff, and paused at the door, listening to the murmering outside. They were waiting, the entirety of Haven, all hoping to catch a glance of her, hoping she would bless them with some divine favor. It never got any easier, so she did what she had learned to do. 

Arlia took a breath, squared her shoulders, and pushed open the door, holding her head high. Each step carefully measured, her gaze cool and calm, every inch of her poised to perfection, or well, nearly. It would take time to get it exact, but Josie and Vivienne would see to that. Right now she had to get to the Chantry.

The walk through Haven was unnerving. Whispered and furtive glances followed her up the path, muffled by the sound of her boots in the snow. She couldn’t bare to look at their faces. She knew if she did she would see ghosts. The faces of those she had failed to save when Haven burned. Not this time. There would be no ghosts. 

Head held high she marched into the chantry, the doors closing behind her with a thud. For a brief moment there was blissful quiet, then she heard the shouting from the makeshift War Room at the end of the hall. Ah, right, she still had that to deal with.

She stepped into the room, immediately flanked by two Templar Guards. Rodrick shouted at them, ordering them to chain her, but Cassandra dismissed them with a glare and a wave. The next several minutes was just bickering, with Arlia staying silent. She didn’t particularly trust Rodrick, not yet at least. The man was too loyal to the Chantry, and the Chantry was too divided and fractured to do any good at the moment. No, best to keep him in the dark for now. Maybe this time she could save him, one less ghost haunting her.

Cassandra dropped a heavy tome on the table, the Writ from Divine Justinia, authorizing them to act. Still shouting she chased the man out of the room. The door slammed shut and silence echoed in the chamber. “Well, that was exciting. Shall we get started building this Inquisition then,” Arlia asked with a smile. Both women turned on her, “How do you know about the Inquisition? It was not known to anyone besides-” “Besides the people you gathered to put it together, yes yes,” Arlia said. “Josephine Montilyet, Cullen Rutherford, Lilliana, and Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena-” 

“Get on with it!” Cass growled and Arlia laughed. 

“Pentagast,” she finished. “Ah, the more things change…”

“Yes, and with just us, we have so little,” Lilliana said softly. “We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support. How are we to find those who will stand against this chaos?” 

“They will come,” Arlia said softly. “They did the first time.”

“And then there is your tale,” Lilliana said frowning. “You stand against this madman, but how do we know we can trust you?”

“Because I’m the Inquisitor, or rather, I will be. Time Travel is complicated,” Arlia said rubbing her brow.

“Excuse me, Time Travel?!” Cassandra demanded. 

“Yes, a little over three years back in time if I’m not mistaken,” Arlia said with a sigh. “Remember that complicated story I need to explain? Well, that’s how things end, or begin again now.”

“And you expect us to believe this?” Liliana asked skeptically.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it is the truth,” Arlia replied. “Now, we do have work to do.”

“Hmp, well, if you have done this before, where do we start?” Cassandra asked. 

“We start the same way as last time, get everything organized. That will take most of the day. I’ll see about getting a barrel of cider from Flessa, and then...then I tell you everything,” Arlia answered and Cassandra nodded.

“Very well, it had better be a good story.”

“Oh, it is,” Arlia said and marched out.

 

For the next several hours Haven was a flurry of activity. Ravens flew, half trailed soldiers and scouts ran along the icy paths, and the whole town buzzed with excitement. They would stand against this, find the one who killed the Divine, seal the Breach. They had to, no one else would.

The day staggered to a slow halt, the sun setting as they gathered into the Chantry War Room. Varric and Solas looked slightly out of place compared to the advisors, but she only wanted to tell this story once. Well, maybe more than once. She had to tell the others after she met them too.

“So Poppy,” Varric said pouring himself a tankard. “You said you had a story for us.”

“Oh yes,” Arlia said and pulled up a chair, staring down at the map below. “The truth is, I’ve lived through all of this before. The Breach, this War, that Madman. We fought Templars dosing themselves with Red Lyrium,” Varric choked on his cider, “a Tivinter Cult, a frankly disturbing amount of demons, saved the Empress of Orlais, stopped the Wardens from enslaving themselves to Corypheus, chased him down to an ancient Elven Temple in the Arbor Wilds, and finally killed the bastard. That takes just about a year.” 

The six of them all stared at her for a moment and Cullen took a breath, “So...we won?”

“Yes, we won,” Arlia said softly. “We saved the world, restored order, saw a new Divine be elected. Congratulations by the way, Most Holy,” Arlia added, giving Lilliana a short bow. “And for the next two years, everything seemed okay. Till the Exalted Council.”

She took a breath and a drink. “The Orleans wanted to leash the Inquisition, Fereldan wanted to see us disbanded, and in the midst of all that political infighting the Qunari began their plot. They had infiltrated the Inquisition, used our resources to smuggle enough Gatlock into the Winter Palace to leave it a smoking crater, along with every other nobel house in southern Thedas.”

She glanced up into the faces of those around her, seeing the grim horror in their expressions. “We managed to stop the assault on the Palace, but it was too late. I had to do something, so, I did the only thing that seemed sensible at the time.”

“You went back in time?” Solas asked quietly.

“It was supposed to be three days,” Arlia huffed. “Dorian, the man who crafted the spell and amulet, said as much. He used a month’s worth of Lyrium to send himself back three days. I figured that would be enough to stop the Qunari. Then again, using the anchor to fuel it was probably a bad idea.”

“You used the mark on your hand to fuel a spell designed to throw you back in Time?” Varric asked. “That’s crazy.”

“To be fair, it was trying to kill me at the time as well. There was a lot of energy surging through it, tearing apart my arm, nearly stopping my heart a few times, causing massive explosions. I figured channeling it into something productive might work,” Arlia said and sighed. “It was supposed to be three days.”

“Hell of a gamble Poppy,” Varric said and took a drink.

“But one that may benefit us greatly,” Lilliana said pacing. “If you know everything that happens then you know all of Corypheus's plans, his weaknesses, how to fight him.”

“A few of the smaller details might of slipped through the cracks but yes,” Arlia said with a nodd. “Which is why we need to keep this secret. The fewer people who know, the better. He thinks we’re small, weak, disorganized. Let him keep thinking that, and we’ll undermine him at every turn.” 

She drew herself up, every inch the Inquisitor once. “We will see this would be god fall again. We will make each of his plans unravel at the seams. He will regret awakening the Inquisition’s ire. If I lead, will you follow?”

Determined faces looked back at her and she smiled, “Then let’s get to work.”

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It tooks hours before they departed that little room. Well, Solas and Varric had escaped early on, claiming that the five of them could work on the nitty gritty details and they’d just get in the way. 

So it was just Cassandra, Lilliana, Josephine and Cullen grilling Arlia on every tiny detail. Troop movements, agents working behind the scenes, which noble houses were lenient to their cause, where and when they should strike, how large was his army, what had really happened in the fade. Old memories, wounds that had scared over, laid bare again as she recounted everything she could remember. 

When at last the candles had burned down to nubs, the cask of cider had long since ran dry, and Arlia was well and truly drained, they stopped. 

“I believe Miss Lavellan has provided us with more than enough to work with at the moment,” Josie said flipping through her copious notes, “and it is rather late. We would do well to convene again in the morning, when our minds are fresh.”

Arlia shot her a look of gratitude. Cullen sighed, “I best leave that to you and Liliana, I have troops to drill. If Corypheus is to attack Haven again, he will find us better prepared.” 

“If we can evacuate the town of all non essential, non combat focused people,” Arlia said rubbing her face. “Sell them something, that closing the Breach could prove too dangerous for them to stay so close?”

Lilliana nodded, “I will see to it. My agents can spread the word as soon as you wish. They will also begin looking for Skyhold.”

“Thanks, it’ll be good to see the castle again,” she sighed and pushed away from the table. “I’ll see you all in the morning, for now, I could really use some sleep.”

“I believe we all could,” Josephine said with a smile and they all slowly staggered out of the Chantry. 

Arlia took a breath as she stepped out into the cold, gazing up at the sky, the flickering shadow of the Breach still lingering at the corner of her vision. 

To be back here again, standing once more at the precipice of change and upheaval. Could she do better this time? Navigate the stormy seas that had nearly drowned her the first time? Could she change the world for the better this time, mend what was broken, instead of just blundering through? Creators she hoped so.

There was just one last person she had to visit before turning in for the night. She turned down the gravel path, carefully picking her way towards a battered cabin next to the Apothecary. There was still a faint light in the cabin’s windows, so he was still awake at least. 

She hesitated, rubbing her thumb against the anchor, feeling the power spark in her palm. Then, slowly, she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. 

For a brief moment she thought he might already be asleep, before the door opened. 

“Ah, I see you have finally been relinquished,” Solas said softly. 

“Yeah, but only because they’re going to drag me back in tomorrow.” She glanced up, steading herself under his gaze, “Could we speak for a bit? I have some concerns, about the Anchor, and what could happen to my memories.”

His eyes sparked with interest and he stepped aside, motioning her inside. She gave him a brief smile and slipped in. He wasn’t sharing the space with Varric and Dorian just yet, but considering how fast the Inquisition had grown last time his solitude wouldn’t last long. 

“You said you had concerns about the anchor?” Solas asked closing the door and she nodded. 

“It’s different this time,” she replied and glanced down at the mark. “It’s….” She grimaced flexing her hand. “It doesn’t feel the same. Before, every time I closed a rift it felt like I was plunging my arm into a barrel of hot coals. Now it’s…changed somehow. It doesn’t hurt. It feels...I’m not really sure how to describe it.”

Solas slowly stepped forward, holding his hand out, “May I?” he asked, glancing down at the anchor.

Her breath hitched and she carefully placed her hand in his, “Of course.”

He turned her hand over, slender fingers slowly tracing the edge of the mark. “Strange.”

“What? Is it going to try and kill me again?” Arlia groaned and he shook his head.

“No, I don’t believe so. The mark, the anchor as you said, has changed,” he replied with a frown. 

“It did that last time,” Alria said softly.

“Not like this I would presume, it’s become part of you.” He traced the edge of the mark again and she tried to stop the shiver that coursed down her spine.

“Before, it was like a poorly darned patch, it frayed and tore at every disturbance, disrupting the fabric of your body and soul. Now, it’s as if it has woven itself into the essence of your being,” he replied and released her hand. “It can never be separated from you, it is as much a part of you as your heart is a part of your chest.”

She blinked in surprise and took a step back, cradling her hand to her chest. “Oh. Well that’s gonna piss of Corypheus.” 

“I dare say it will,” Solas said with a half smile. “And you other concern?”

“Oh right, last time I couldn’t remember what happened in the fade because a powerful Fear Demon took my memories,” she explained. “If that happens again-”

“We lose our advantage,” Solas replied and she nodded.

“This demon is also allied with Corypheus. It feeds off of the terror of the Blight, and since the Elder One is supposedly the source they get along famously,” she growled. “So not only would we lose our advantage, the demon would likely inform Corypheus of everything we know.”

Solas grimaced, already seeing the outcome of such an event, “So you seek to protect your mind from intrusion?”

She nodded, “I can do it while I’m awake, but sleeping, well, dreams and the Fade are your area of expertise.”

“You would trust me in your the world of dreams?” Solas asked.

“Of course,” she breathed. “I trust you implicitly.”

His eyes widened and he took a half step back before pausing, and nodding his head. “Then I shall endeavor to aid you as best I can.”

“Thank you Solas,” she said and stood slowly. “I look forward to seeing you then.” 

He nodded and stepped aside, letting her slip away into the night. He watched her retreating form, a great many questions roiling inside him. Questions that would have to wait. 

He closed the door and ventured back to his bed, closing the book he had been reading and extinguishing the lamp. He laid his head back, staring for a moment at the darkened ceiling, listening to the creaks and groans of the wind, the subtle thunder of the Breach cracking in the air. Then, with a long breath, he closed his eyes, and felt his mind drift away. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunlight fell through the canopy, gleaming golden shafts dappled the velvet green grass. A peaceful moment, sitting at the edge of the cliff. The first of many, the last of many. Her arms wrapped tight around her as she stared out at the endless expanse of trees below. How many ghosts wandered beneath their boughs? How large would her own forest grow, after this war?

“Arlia,” a familiar voice called from beside her and she smiled, taking the offered hand.

“I known Venahn, we still have work to do,” she pressed a kiss to his cheek and pulled back, only to feel her heart drop in her chest. “Solas?”

He staggered back, his face a stone mask hands clenched at his sides. “You should not call me such da’len.”

Wrong, that was wrong, but why was it wrong? Why call her da’len, what was-? The pieces snapped into places, shards of a broken mirror fitting together. “Oh…. we’re in the fade. This… this is a dream.”

Solas nodded, his expression still hard, still grim. “I see now why you trust me so much.”

“Solas-” she reached for him and he took a step back, jaw clenching. 

She pulled her hand back, tucking it against her chest, “I’m sorry.”

He quickly shook his head, “The fault his mine. I should have questioned why you would trust me so easily.”

“Solas that isn’t why I trust-” he cut her off with a wave of his hand.

“It is reason enough. We should hurry. Your emotional state will attract unwanted attention. The sooner you are able to defend your mind-”

“The sooner you can go,” she finished.

His jaw snapped shut and he gave her a curt nodd.

“Of course, where do we start?” she asked gently.

“You need a base to start from. A place you are fond of. A place that offers protection, security, a feeling of home,” he offered with a wave. “I doubt this place has such memories attached to it.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she whispered turning away, “but I know a place that does. Do you care to follow?”

His gaze snapped upwards, eyes cold and distant. “Very well. Lead on.” 

She nodded, ignoring the ache in her chest, and slipped around a nearby tree. Standing just along the worn path was an eluvian, flanked by a wolf and a dragon. She gritted her teeth and stepped forward, pressing a hand to the glass. The surface rippled beneath her touch and she smiled softly before stepping through.

The shock of frozen air hit her and she sucked in a breath, gazing at the mountains wreathed in the dying sunlight and the ancient fortress resting among them. The sound of breaking glass echoed from behind her and she turned to see Solas stepping through.

His eyes widened as he stepped forward. Of all the places she could have chosen, it was here. “Tarasyl'an Te'las,” he breathed.

“Skyhold,” she corrected. “You led us here, after the destruction of Haven, a place where the Inquisition could grow, thrive. Where we could lead an army to face ancient evils. I suppose that is the nature of this place.”

“Perhaps it is,” he said softly. “If is a good place to begin, if the memories here are strong enough.”

“They should be.” She strode forward, slowly changing with each step. No longer the little Dalish child, stumbling amongst those who craved her power. She was, every inch, the Inquisitor once more. “Where do we begin?”

He fell into step beside her, carefully noting her change in posture and demeanor. “This place is a foundation, but it must be reinforced. Your own memories will act as brick and mortar. The stronger the emotions tied to these thoughts, the stronger your fortess becomes, the less likely it is to fall. I would suggest to start with the memories you wish to lose least, and a location in this place they hold the most sway.”

She paused, glancing up at the great spires of the castle, then smiled sadly. “Then I know just where to begin.” 

She started up the steps, the whispers of old memories passing them as they climbed. Flickers of what had yet to pass, and already had. As they entered the Great Hall he fully expected her to charge towards the War Room, to protect the memories of the events of the next year. He did not expect her to quietly slip through the door of the old rotunda, nor the pain that followed in her wake. 

He followed. He should not, they were her memories; but why protect something that caused so much pain? He stepped into the room, pausing as he say her pressing a hand to a blank wall. Color slowly spread from the plaster, and the voices of her memories filled the room. 

 

“Indomitable focus?

 

“Presumably, I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine the sight would be… fascinating.”

“You had sealed it with a gesture… and right then, I felt the whole world change.”

“Felt the whole world change?”

“You change, everything.”

 

“I apologize, the kiss was ill considered, and I should not have encouraged it.”

“You say that, but you’re the one who started with tongue.”

 

“The next time you have to mourn, you needn’t do it alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

 

“Come. Before the band stops playing, dance with me!”

 

“Don’t go.”

“It would be kinder in the long run-but losing you would-”

 

“You are so beautiful…. And I am sorry. I have distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again.”

“Solas…”

 

“Harden your heart to a cutting edge, and put that pain to use against Corypheus.”

 

“No matter what comes, I want you to know what we had was real.”

 

“Solas, agent of Fen’Harel.”

 

“No, Solas isn’t that kind of wolf!”

 

“An insult I took as a badge of Pride, the Dread Wolf inspired hope in my allies, and fear in my enemies.”

 

“You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to destroy this world. Let me prove it to you.”

“I would treasure the chance to be proven wrong once again, ma venahn.”

 

“Venahn! Stop this!”

 

Flashes of visions, pieces of things yet to come. Pain and joy, loss and longing, love and sorrow. How could one person hold such breath of emotions without breaking?

She stepped back from the wall, and he could see the tears still shinings against her cheeks. “I suspect you have questions,” she said with a hollow laugh.

So many, he had so many questions, but he could not bring them forward. She knew everything, all his plans, his past, the path he walked and still… still she loved him. How could she care so much for him? Had he not threatened to destroy everything she held dear? Was he not the ancient enemy of her people?

She stepped forward, slowly closing the distance between them, no longer the Inquisitor, no longer a lost dalish child. She was wholly and completely herself. He could not bear to look away. How could he? How could he possibly turn her away after all this, but he should. He desperately should. 

“If you don’t have a question, may I ask one?” she breath and his heart leapt to his throat.

“Could you just...hold me...once more?” she pleaded. She did not wait for his reply, just stepped forward, and wrapped her trembling arms around him. 

He should push her away, break her heart. He could not, should not allow himself this. So why were his own arms wrapping around her? 

She pressed herself against him, a beacon of warmth, of love, of everything he could have if he wanted, and he wanted it so desperately. But he could not allow himself to be drawn in. He took a shuddering breath and pulled her tighter to his chest, leaning down to whisper in her ear. 

 

“Wake Up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took longer than I expected. My muse was just not cooperating. Still, I'm pretty happy with it. Drop a Kudos and a comment, they give me life, and will hopefully act as coffee for my muse.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hey Poppy, how long are you gonna have your head in the clouds?”

Arlia’s head snapped up, turning to the dwarf riding alongside her. “Sorry Varric, guess I got a little lost in my own head again.”

“That seems to be happening a lot lately. Care to talk about it?” he ventured, carefully adjusting his weight on the old nag he was riding. 

“I doubt it’ll make for a very good story,” she said with a half smile.

“Oh I wouldn’t bet on it, you have damn good stories,” Varric quipped. “Come on. Let off some steam. This is the first time you’ve managed to get away from Ruffles and Nightingale for more than a couple hours, and what time you aren’t with them you’re facing Curley or the Seeker in some rather ruthless sparring matches. Plus there’s that wall of ice Chuckles has put up and-” 

Arlia flinched at the mention of Solas and the old storyteller paused.

“Oh, something happened there I take it.”

“It did, and hasn’t at the same time,” Arlia sighed. 

“Alright now you’re just teasing me,” Varric huffed. “Come on, I’ve been told I’m a great listener.”

She groaned, “You’re not gonna let this go are you?”

“Probably not,” he teased and she sighed. 

“Fine, but you asked for it,” she grumbled. “You know Solas’s habit of walking the Fade and controlling his dreams right? Well I asked him for some help guarding my mind against a particularly nasty breed of demon, and some things… slipped.”

“Gonna elaborate there Poppy?” 

“He saw my memories of him from the last time we went through all this.” she said, gripping the reins tighter. 

“What, did you catch him with his pants down?” Varric asked and she bit her lip. 

“Well, yes, but not in the way you’re thinking,” Arlia answered. 

“Then what are you-” he cut himself off, eyes rounded. “Well...shit.”

“Yeah.” She took a breath and loosened her grip on the reins. The old nags the Inquisition used for it’s mounts now wouldn’t stand up to much abuse. She missed her Hart. 

Varric was quiet for a while, pondering this new revelation. “Okay. so Chuckles sees some old memories of the two of you together, and decides to wall you out?”

“That about sums it up, yes,” Arlia answered. “What are you getting at?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just never thought he was the type to fear commitment.”

She snorted, “Oh he’s not. It’s just… I know some things he’d rather keep secret, so he’s scared.”

“Alright now I’m even more curious.”

“Well too bad, that story isn’t mine to tell.”

“Oh Poppy, now you’re just teasing an old man.”

“Keep it up, and I’ll tell you the ending of your next serial.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” He glowered at her half heartedly, a smirk playing at his lips. 

She shot him a smirk, “Try me.”

He threw his hands up in disgust. “Ugh, fine. I swear you’re worse than Hawke sometimes.”

“You wish,” she teased back. 

Varric gave a noncommittal grunt as the train of wagons and horses began to slow. A scout ran up, half out of breath and bowing to Arlia.

“Your Worship, we’ll be camping here for the night. It’s out of range of the fighting, but tomorrow…” 

“It’s quite alright, I need to speak with the Scout Leader and plan out our next move,” Arlia said and the scout nodded. 

“I’ll let them know right away ma'am!” They shot off back up the train.

“Do you think you’ll ever get used to that?” Varric asked as they clamored off their horses.

“I’ve had three years to get used to it,” Arlia huffed, then groaned as her boots hit the ground. “Andraste’s knickers what I wouldn’t give for a hot bath.” 

“Hey, I’m sure if you kick up enough of a fuss someone will produce one,” Varris said as he slid off his own mount. 

Arlia sighed, “They would, wouldn’t they? Come on Maybe if I’m lucky I can convince Cass not to beat me black and blue tonight.” 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She did not, in fact, convince Cassandra to go easy on her. Maybe it was their proximity to the Hinterlands, but the Seeker had been more keyed up than usual. 

Now Arlia was sitting next to the fire, head tilted back and a bloody handkerchief pressed to her nose. 

“Okay, I think the bleeding has stopped,” she groaned and slowly tilted her head forward, pulling away the bloody scrap of cloth. “How bad is it?”

Varric winced and Cassandra quickly looked away. 

“Damn it,” Arlia hissed and gently pressed her fingers to her nose and winced. “Cass, I think you broke my nose.” 

She prodded the spot again with a wince, before coating her fingers in ice and pressing them to the tender skin. 

“Oh, a broken nose isn’t so bad,” Cassandra huffed. “I have had much worse.”

“We’re also about to march into enemy territory and I’d rather not have a big ‘hit me here’ sign on my face,” Arlia sniped back. 

“Seeker half her face is black and blue,” Varric said with a pained smirk. “What did you do? Backhand her with your shield?”

Cassandra shifted uncomfortably in her seat and Varric’s eyes widened, “You did!”

“It was an honest mistake,” Cassandra countered. 

“You saw me try to Fade Step past you and practically threw your shield into my face,” Arlia grumbled, still icing her poor nose. 

“I did apologize,” Cassandra grumbled. “Why not simply heal yourself?”

“Because I can’t” Arlia snapped back, then sighed. “I’ve never been able to master healing magic. Ask for fire, lightning, or a rip in the fabric of the veil; I can handle that. Putting someone’s broken face right again…” She trailed off. 

“I did not break your face!” Cassandra objected.

“You kinda did,” Varric said as he passed her a bowl of camp stew. 

“Oh no one asked you Dwarf!” she huffed, snatching the bowl away.

Varric shook his head and held out a bowl for Arlia, “Think you can manage to eat?”

Arlia smiled, wincing as she did so, and took the bowl. “Thanks.”

Cassandra grumbled, poking at her stew, then back at Arlia, “If it is that painful, why not ask Solas to heal it? He is quite capable.”

Arlia’s grip tightened on her bowl, “I’m sure Solas has other priorities right now.”

“We are headed into enemy territory on the morrow, I should think his main priority at the moment would be keeping you safe.” Cassandra huffed and quickly stood to find the mage.

Arlia sat there, trying to sputter out a reply as the Seeker stormed off. A moment later she came back, the apostate in tow, who took one look at her face and sighed. 

“The damage does not look too severe, for all the bruising. I believe I may be able to heal it,” he said turning to Cassandra who smiled. 

“Then if you would be so kind,” Cassandra replied, gesturing to Arlia.

He nodded and turned to Arlia once more, who slowly put her bowl to the side. 

“Please try not to move,” he informed her and reached out a hand glowing a soft green.

She gasped as the magic touched her skin, a shock of cold, then warmth seeping under her skin. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her cheek just brushing the tips of his fingers before he snatched his hand away. 

Her eyes snapped open and she glanced up at his face. He stared down at her, jaw clenched before turning back to Cassandra. 

“That will suffice. Good evening,” he tersely concluded, then stormed off to the other side of the camp once more. 

Alria groaned, collapsing onto her hands, “Andraste’s tits I hate this.”

Cassandra’s gaze snapped back to the hunched over elf, “Would you care to explain what exactly that…?” She trailed off with a look of confusion.

“Solas and I were...in the other future, it was… it is complicated,” Arlia replied with a sigh and reached for her dinner. 

“How can it be complicated?” Cassandra asked and Arlia snorted. 

“I don’t have the time or energy to explain that. Besides,” she paused, staring down into her bowl, “they’re not my secrets to share.” 

Cassandra frowned at her, opening her mouth to say something, but was cut off as Varric nudged her in the ribs. She glared down at the dwarf, who merely shook his head and turned back to his dinner. Cass huffed and started on hers as well. 

Arlia slowly picked at her stew, finally setting it down half eaten, and slipped away to walk around the camp. She easily picked her way through the posted senteries and laid out in the grass, staring up at the night sky.

“Should you be out here on your own?”

She stiffened at the familiar voice, but kept her gaze on the sky. “Perhaps not, but I needed a moment away.”

“I dare say such moments only get more difficult to come by as time passes,” he said softly and she smiled.

“Just a bit, but sharing moments with other people can be enjoyable as well.”

“But not tonight?” he asked, his footsteps bringing him closer.

“Well, maybe with the right company,” she answered and there was a pause. 

“Ah, and… would I be that right company?”

She scrambled upright, turning to face him, “Solas-”

“I saw that future, the memories. Your memories. The feelings you had and…” His voice trailed off and he slowly shook his head. “We cannot, I cannot allow such a distraction again.”

“Because your duty won’t let you,” she said softly and he nodded. “What if you didn’t have to?”

“There is no other way,” he snarled. 

“Yes there is! You just need to let me help you!”

“I-I can’t,” he hissed and backed away. “I won’t let you walk this path.”

“As if anyone in this world could tell me what to do,” she snapped. “Least of all you.” 

His eyes squeezed shut and he turned away, “You speak as if there is a choice. There is none.”

“Bullshit, of course there is,” she snarled and she stood up, marching over, stabbing a finger in his chest. “And I will damned well make you see it, whether you like it or not. I am NOT giving up on you, you stupid wolf! Now deal with it.”

She whirled away, leaving a stunned apostate behind as she stormed back into camp. “Where’s Corporal Vale?! We need to talk about how to handle tomorrow!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this took longer than expected. Sorry for the delay, real life happened real fast. I went from unemployed and fully focused on this to a full time job, biking to work in a rual town in summer, and trying to keep my dog from killing herself after she ate an entire bottle of noproxon. (Don't worry, she's fine. Vet said she'll recover after a couple days rest) As it stands I've had less time to work on this fic, but never fear! My devoted beta reader and your lovely kuddos and comments will give me the strength to continue. So drop one below if you feel so enclined.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a Comment or Kuddos! They give me life.


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